


As If Anyone Had Any Doubts

by ScarletDeva



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco sulks, F/M, Harry has a blind eye when it comes to Slytherins, Interhouse Unity, Ridiculous, Yes Gryffindors are totally prejudiced, blame Dumbledore, sort of, then he gets over it and gets revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 01:51:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1126986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletDeva/pseuds/ScarletDeva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Malfoy is having a rotten, bad, no good day. When he ends up getting advice from a ghost, does that make a difference?</p>
            </blockquote>





	As If Anyone Had Any Doubts

Draco plopped down in a darkened nook of a hallway, his grey eyes looking out resentfully at the odd passer-by. No one dared approach the surly wizard and he liked it that way just fine. In fact he had a nasty hex or two in mind for anyone who would dare to intrude on his sulk time. Theodore Nott passed by with Daphne Greengrass and few of their other housemates and it seemed for a moment that Theo intended to come closer but Draco shot him a scowl and the other boy hurried his companions along, returning the scowl with a roll of his eyes.

Yes Draco Malfoy was in a bad, nasty, no good mood.

As if anyone had any doubts.

The flaxen haired wizard tucked himself tighter into the nook and crossed his legs in a loose lotus position, his gaze burning angrily into the opposite wall, his lips moving slightly as he ranted to himself. Soon the words got loud enough to hear.

"Who gave her the right? Blood traitor. House traitor. Traitor to all good taste in the world. And him? Of all people? What was she thinking? And since when does he have any interest in Slytherins anyway? Damn them. Damn them all. They should be punished. Till they're sorry. And made to bring me coffee. Coffee good. Blood traitors bad."

Yes Draco Malfoy was losing all sense of coherency.

As if anyone had any doubts.

But then it wasn't all his fault this time. After all it's not every day one happens upon Ron Weasley and Millie Bullstrode snogging in a broom closet as if the world is going to end if their tongues do not thoroughly explore each others' esophaguses... or is it esophagi... Draco did not know but he also did not care. What he did care about was how he was ever going to purge than horrible, terrible, truly and utterly disgusting image from his mind. And no it wasn't Bullstrode. Millie had grown into her body in the past few years and while rather large, she was proportionate and passably pretty. It was the Weasel. Ugh. True pureblood hands touching poor freckled flesh. It was enough to make a cultured wizard gag himself inside out. And all this after suffering through a whole class with Snape dressed up as a leprechaun, four leafed clover on his hat and all. Undoubtedly Dumbledork's idea. He shuddered painfully.

Yes Draco Malfoy was definitely being hunted and tortured by the universe.

As if anyone had any doubts.

"You look unhappy," a whispery voice came and Draco looked up with a snarl to find a nearly beheaded ghost. He rarely paid attention to any of them except for the Bloody Baron and of course Peeves so he had no idea which one this was. That of course didn't mean he would be any nicer.

"What do you care?" he grumbled.

"It does not strike my fancy to see a wizard looking so downtrodden on such a nice day," the ghost spoke gently. "It's my deathday you know."

"Yeah well," Draco snapped, unable to find a cutting retort for once. "It's a miserable no good day."

"It's All Hallows Eve," the ghost said. "Why are you not getting ready for the ball?"

"I'm not going," the Slytherin announced. "I don't want to see Millie sucking face with that hideous overgrown... thing."

Yes Draco Malfoy was just full of wit today.

As if anyone had any doubts.

"Your former lady love?" the ghost asked.

Draco sputtered. "In her dreams. But she's still too good for that dumb freckled weasel."

The ghost held a pause looking at the boy thoughtfully. "Are you angry at them for being happy or are you merely lonely for a witch of your very own?" he inquired gently.

"What? You! How? No!" Draco rattled off in a spectacular show of eloquence.

The nearly headless ghost merely smiled and drifted away.

Draco sulked.

People passed by.

Draco sulked some more.

Then he caught sight of Potty and Mudblood. Arguing. Loudly. An evil smirk caught his lips and he got to his feet, creeping over quietly.

"Would you just let Ron be happy?" Granger yelled at a red-faced Pothead.

"No! Not when he's off with some Death Eater junior probably telling all our secrets to her and her Death Eater family!" Potty returned cleverly. It was nice to know Draco wasn't the only one short on witty retorts today.

"You're being utterly ridiculous," the bushy haired Granger girl huffed. "We're supposed to encourage interhouse unity. It is just like you to be so judgmental and difficult. Well if you're going to be this way, I am going to get ready for the ball. Talk to me when you decide to grow some sense." She turned and walked away at an even pace. Potter gave what sounded like a retarded growl and stormed off in the opposite direction. Draco grinned.

Yes Draco Malfoy was forming a plan.

As if anyone had any doubts.

After an hour (or three) of primping, picking out which black robes to wear (the choice between obsidian and onyx was critical of course) and several applications of hair gel to his magnificent mane, he was ready to put it into action.

He got to the Great Hall and stopped short, ducking into a darkened niche, his eyes watching the party-goers sharply. It took only several minutes for the desired person to come walking in his direction and he grinned at his own cleverness before stepping out and reaching (not grabbing, remember Draco, grabbing isn't nice) for her arm.

Hermione Granger (was that really her? shiny smooth hair and second skin burnt golden robes) spun around with shock rounding her eyes. Finding who it was that accosted her she took advantage of the flabbergasted look on his face and shook off his grip.

"What do you want Malfoy?" she asked suspiciously.

He smirked. "Well I heard you are all in favor of interhouse unity so I was wondering if you'd like to encourage some of it with me."

She blinked. And again. And then reached up to feel his forehead.

"You don't seem to be running a fever," she said slowly and pinched herself, yelping, "and I am not dreaming."

"Come on Granger," he cajoled. "It will be fun. Besides you could take some of the heat off Wease-Weasley."

Her eyes narrowed with yet more suspicion. "What's in it for you?"

"The chance to annoy Potty," he said promptly then gave a slow, lazy, grin that he knew was at least 100 on the 0-10 point scale of seduction, "and a pretty girl on my arm for the ball."

She stared at him and then burst into laughter. His expression turned sulky, but brightened as she took his arm.

"Alright Malfoy," she said. "Just because I am angry with Harry and you are being amusing at the moment. But no funny business."

"None at all," he said charmingly if falsely and led her into the Great Hall.

Yes Draco Malfoy was a mac daddy pimp.

As if anyone had any doubts.

The first sight that greeted them was Millie holding Weasel's hand pressing a tiny, soft, delicate kiss onto his mouth. A sickening, sweet, lovey-dovey kiss. Draco shuddered, Hermione patting his shoulder in amused comfort.

It was in an effort of self defense that he wordlessly asked his date for the night (Granger? Date?) to dance. She shook her head in amusement but accepted with a slight smile. Classically trained, one of his arms went around her slim waist, his hand taking hers before whirling her into a slow, but somewhat complex set of steps, her eyes sparkling as she did her best to keep up and, to his well hidden astonishment, succeeded admirably. Her soft curls flounced as he spun her around and as she came back into his arms he favored her with a wink, eliciting a grin in response.

That was when Harry Potter needed to be restrained by three Gryffindors, six Hufflepuffs, and one Ravenclaw, as he frothed at the mouth, kicking and clawing the air as his eyes flashed maniacally.

Draco only smirked, pulling Hermione closer as the music changed to something Spanish sounding. He was also well trained in naughty Latin dances. His partner laughed as he dipped her back and when she was steady on her feet, she pressed a light kiss to his cheek in a fit of exuberance. His smug gaze traveled the Hall, falling on Dumblepoof, whose eyes seemed to be twinkling behind his stupid spectacles, before moving back to Hermione's face.

"Can't resist me can you?" he teased.

She rolled her eyes good naturedly. "Yes Draco Malfoy you are an irresistible, adorable rogue."

As if anyone had any doubts.


End file.
